The World ends with You
by Retro-Rainbow
Summary: In the midst of a rant about the 'Hallmark Holiday' that is Valentine's Day, Nozomu Itoshiki tells his class to write an essay on 'Why Love is a Terrible Thing', but one student can't help but veer off the point.


**The World Ends With You**

* * *

**Woah, I haven't been on here in ages, have I? I guess the real world just caught up with me. -Boo, hiss!- Oh, how I'd love to escape. -runs away to find a rabbit hole to fall down- Meh. Anywho, I noticed a disgusting jack of Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei fics on here, -for shame, for shame- so, voila! Enjoy, '**_The World Ends With You_**'. – grabs a packet of blue m'n'ms' and a cup of Irn Bru, because I'm cool like that -**

* * *

You say love is an illness, a 'terrible thing'.

There are things like cancer, which account for thirteen per cent of all deaths. Something that causes so much strain, damage, and pain.

Aids. There are thirty three point two people living with it worldwide. The estimate is that since it was discovered in 1981, it has claimed more the twenty five million lives.

There's six point five billion people in the world. Six point five billion lives. When you think of that, you can't help but really think how insignificant you are. Some people think that to such an extent, that the world would be better off without them.

I know someone like that.

I'm thinking of you on the train, and when I'm busy.

I'm thinking of you when I'm reading romance novels, when the two lovers embrace each other at the climax.

Or in shounen manga where the hero gets the girl and tells her that he'll stay be her side no matter what, and then sacrifices his life to save her, a brave, foolish motion.

He'd rather breathe his last breath then see her go through death.

I'm thinking of you when I'm wondering about my future, but let's stick to the present like glued hearts on a nine year olds' love letter,

Or tails pinned so tightly on someone's wall, knee socks pulled up around unevenly around a school girl's knee, or a rope wound around a Sakura tree.

I like the funny clothes you wear, your teeth, and the silly way you cut your hair.

I have a dream, sweaty, clammy, frantic hands, holding hands, over my body, give me goose bumps, make my hair stand on end.

When you say you're in despair, I always tell you I care,

Not in a loud way, but in a silent, observing way,

Far away, towards the back where your eyes can't quite meet mine over a sea of sighing heads.

Sometimes you make people laugh but everything you do could make me cry.

I don't want to be with anyone else, I don't have time for them, I want to move to our house,

In a field, just tell me when, and I'll be there.

I'd drop everything for you.

I don't even have a girlfriend.

My mind is occupied; my buzz is rocket high above the moon and back again,

Down to reality where everything puts you in despair-

But there's a beautiful world out there, I sware;

And if you just take my hand I'll show you everything there is to see.

I'll show you baker's putting out their bread in a frosted window, I'll show you sequins in the cracks of the pavement, left over by some long forgotten festival.

I'll show you honey bees, I'll show you the blossoming Sakura trees, I'll show you people like us lying on the hills smiling, laughing together, I'll show you the moon when it's at it's purest, it's brightest, and when you look into the clear water you can see it dancing behind you.

I'll show you there's so much crap found at the beach, buried in sand,

Broken bits of bottles, stripy beach clothes, battles over sandcastles, sun cream covered head to toes.

I'll show you raindrops glistening; I'll show you that the whole world is listening,

To what I have to say, that who I love is you.

You're the most unpretentious, the most exciting, I want to spend most of my time with you because you are the most worthwhile.

You're the most eccentric, outlandish, fascinating, innovating, remarkable, vigorous, passionate, witty person I have ever met, like a film, a made up person

But I know you're real.

You know who I am but you don't pay much attention, I'm just there in the background,

A character who has nothing to do with the plot, because let's face it, I'm not that important.

I don't come from a foreign country, I'm not insufferably positive, I don't pull tiger tails, I don't go off the rails, I'm just a male, me.

I'm just a boy.

A boy who's there, behind you- not in the literal sense, like someone who follows you all over the place, but in a way much stronger, potent then that,

I'm behind you every step of the way, but you're going down a road and you don't know which way you should go.

I'm in the library passing the time away, looking for another world to get lost into,

But I wouldn't want to stay there, reality is the place where I'm most content, right here in the present.

Yet you don't want to stay here, you want to disappear.

Six point five billion people in this world, you don't think you can make a difference.

But you did- you made a difference to me.

There's a crimson thread that has our fingers intertwined, I'm sure, just because we can't see it doesn't mean it's not there

Sometimes life can be so unfair.

If you just notice me, really, just look at me_, I'm figuratively in front of you_, recognize me, be aware of me, know me, grin with me, weep with me, get lost with me, stay with me, be with me, I'll show you how beautiful this world can be.

* * *

Nozomu Itoshiki finished reading over Jun Kudō's essay, titled, 'Why Love is a Terrible Thing', and was left with a peculiar sensation, creeping up his spine, like a hand making circles, quickly, up and down his backside. He glanced around, and acknowledged that his window was shut. He yawned and flopped down to the floor, perhaps lying under the kotatsu was making him drowsy.

He chose to put the essay out of his mind, at least for now.

* * *

Last week, after Chiri Kitsu, once again, questioned him on when they were going to get married, he spluttered, not quite getting the word 'never!' out. After he composed himself, he started a rant in the class, telling them that love wasn't real, just an illness problem, aided by indigestion and Valentine's Day.

"But, pink-supervisor, Valentine's Day is next week! Aren't you going to be with your special someone?" Kafuka Fūra quizzed. All of a sudden the class started buzzing.

"You giving chocolate to anyone?"

"Of course! It's Valentine's Day!"

"…How normal."

"Ah, chocolate! What a lovely way to show the one you love you care!"

"…"

"Uh… I'm making him chocolate… ah! But he better not get the wrong idea! He doesn't have to eat it…Well, if he wants, he can- wait, why should I care, anyway?!"

"In my country, we used to give mushrooms instead, with pictures drawn on them."

"I'm actually thinking of giving chocolate."

"…But you're a boy, it's your turn on White Day."

"But what's the chances of me getting chocolate?!"

"I'm making a super-special Valentine doujin!"

"We'll probably just stay in…"

"I'm making my husband a home-cooked meal!"

"I'll probably just read."

"SETTLE!", Nozomu screeched.

The class paid him no attention.

"-!"

"I'M IN DESPAIR! THE FLIPPANT WAY YOU PEOPLE TREAT AN ILNESS HAS LEFT ME IN DESPAIR!"

The class paid him no attention.

"Sensei! Please refrain from doing that, the rope is tied in a sloppy fashion!"

"But, pink-supervisor, you're already tall enough!"

Nozomu abandoned his attempt at escaping the trivial Hallmark Card created occasion.

He could just picture it, a big group of robust men in suits, cigars hanging from their lips, in a smoke enveloped room, complaining about the money they were getting from Christmas cards, or the lack.

"You know, there's such a gap between Christmas and Mother's Day…"

"Well, I heard this 'love' thing is popular these days."

"Love? What's that?"

"An illness. But people delude themselves and think it's a state of affection, when really, it's just indigestion."

"! That's perfect! We'll call it… Valentine's Day! And hold it directly in the middle of February- how does the fourteenth sound?"

"Oh, fantastic!"

Cue sinister chuckles all round.

"Well, why don't you all write an essay for me, since you refuse to listen on how I'm right!"

Cue sighs all round.

"Yes, that's right! And the title shall be, 'Why Love is a Terrible Thing'!"

"Whaaat?"

"That's crazy."

"He_is_crazy."

…Good point."

* * *

It was Wednesday, the thirteenth of February, the day before V-Day, about ten am.

Nozomu complained to the class that the class did an excellent job on portraying the terrible things about love.

Of course, he mentioned nobody's in particular.

But as he went into another rant about the 'Hallmark Holiday', he threw his eyes to the back of the class, and saw Jun Kudō, buried in a book, a heavy, foreign looking one. As usual. But somehow, Nozomu couldn't get the fact that he didn't seem to be actually reading said book out of his head.

* * *

**Hmmm, keep it a one shot, or should I keep going? I think it would go well either way, but meh. T'is up to you! –oh lawd, how cheesy DX- Anydoodle, where-oh-where did the title come from? I pinched it from the new Squeenix game. –HOMG I WANT IT I NEED IT RIGHT NOW HURRY UP PLZ- And well, I suppose the world does end with them? X3 Or at least Jun's world… or is it just Jun's? - !!! – plot bunnies scamper about-**

**Anywho, I'm off to -find that darn rabbit hole- be bored.**

**Until a possible next time! X3 **


End file.
